One Hour
by Dawnoflight95
Summary: Castiel takes up Dean's advice and spends an hour with Meg and her dewy body. The only problem? He wants more. Kind of a one shot series. Kind of. Rated M for a reason. Megstiel.
1. Books

It's undeniable. Meg and Castiel have a very strange relationship. I wrote this right after watching "Caged Heat" (Season 6, Episode 10). It takes place right after. Perhaps, another chapter if I have time. Enjoy.

* * *

_"Even if this chemistry's a catastrophe_  
_I don't give a fuck_  
_If you wanna taste then take a bite right out of me_  
_I don't give a fuck_  
_Freezing time like a strobe on you, breathing in electronic fumes_  
_We've made our minds and we've made our bets, so let's sink in"_

_~Breathe Carolina - I.D.G.A.F._

* * *

Civil war is not the way Castiel envisioned the aftermath of the Apocalypse to be. What he assumed to be the end of a long struggle only brought turmoil to his home. His brothers and sisters were quickly choosing sides to fight on, and he and Raphael stood in the vey center of their decisions. It made him sick.

The Angel looked down at his two hands. He was in a fairly deserted pub, not far from where Sam and Dean Winchester lay in their beds. Well, only Dean; he was sound asleep, unaware that his soulless brother had gone out to fetch a human girl for… human needs. He shuddered at the thought. Castiel was used to the vessel he inhabited, but the petty emotions? Not yet. Pity, he believed it was, began to rise in the lower part of the vessel's stomach. He continued to stare at his hands, as if they were a visual to the new arising feeling. The Winchester brothers had called him to aid the pursuit of Sam's soul in a demon known as Crowley.

Crowley, the new King of Hell, had informed the brothers that he had inkling to where Sam's soul might be, but Castiel knew better. A soul in between the two of his brothers would be damaged beyond repair. Telling this to Dean, however, had changed nothing. Dean's blind loyalty to his pushed this logic away.

After their attempt came up fruitless, Castiel wasn't shocked to hear that Sam had begun to give up hope. Blankly staring into the distance now, it amazed Castiel how Sam could have kept hope to begin with. Perhaps Dean impacted him more than he let himself believe.

"Thank you."

"This round's on me."

A row of three shot glasses sat idly in front of Castiel. Alcohol had become a very tempting guilty pleasure of his. As much as he belonged in Heaven, battling this war, he enjoyed the tastes of the many drinks he had come in contact with, and now knew why humanity had partially drunk itself to death; alcohol allowed for slurred words but very true thoughts. Picking up the first of the three shot glasses, Castiel knocked it back quickly. He now understood Dean's habits.

It had been a useless day. Besides burning Crowley, nothing was accomplished besides tension and the ever-growing chaos in Heaven. Castiel looked up, as if the bar's cheap tiled ceiling would open the Heavens to him, and bring him to peace and sanctuary. It gnawed at him. He could leave Earth, and fight with his brethren, or he could stay, drinking himself silly and watching over the Winchester boys.

The fact that he wanted to choose the latter almost scared Castiel.

Another shot he gulped down, not taking his eyes off the square bottle of crisp auburn colored liquid on the other side of the bar. Dean had warned him to "take it easy on the booze" but it was easier said than done. It left him with a feeling of fire in his veins. The third shot went down easier, not as scorching as the first down the vessel's throat. Castiel stood, eyeing the bartender, who looked at him with a smug eye before proclaiming that "this round was on her". Suspicious, he vanished before she could refill his glasses.

Now in the cool breeze of the outdoors, Castiel stood alone in the pub's vacant parking lot. With his arms stretched open, he felt the vessel become warm with alcohol and his mouth tangy with the aftertaste. He didn't mind so much. With a silent stride, the forlorn Angel walked out of the lot, his arms swinging to the sides of him. The feelings of uselessness and guilt became more prominent when he was under the influence of human depressants.

The guilt came from his dark plan of manifesting souls. He could easily live with that. But the emotion of uselessness because Castiel could not help Sam and Dean was more… toxic. And he tried to not let it bother him, but it did. Yet, at the same time, Castiel felt used; Sam and Dean called only when they needed him. _Isn't that my purpose? _The little lore on Angels portrayed him and his siblings as gentle, helpful creatures, so much so, that little girls believed that Angels were watching over them and that they were decked in glitter and light. Castiel snorted. Humans had the tendency to trust. They wanted to believe everything in the world could be righteous and good. He knew that Angels were capable of more than sparkling matter and fairy wings.

But if not in Heaven, what good was he to the Winchesters? Now that he was here, he should be looking for answers, though he knew from the start Sam's soul is beyond repair. Perhaps, it was time that was against the two hunters.

Time. He used it as if it was nothing, and now, on this little planet, it meant everything. And he used his time drinking and watching… pornography.

He could not lie; Castiel was still very much puzzled to why the pizza man found it necessary to inflict pain on the baby sitter, nor did he understand why her annoying shouts of glee failed to wake the children she was hired to watch over. He found this to be highly ironic: Castiel watched over the Winchesters, free of charge. The woman was paid but she was canoodling with a stranger in her employer's house. Perhaps, all humans had the tendency to trust specifically when it came to sexual intercourse.

In all the time Castiel had spent on Earth, he took no interest in women or men that were not directly affiliated with the Winchesters. Though Dean had taken him to the… cathouse, as he called it, it failed to entertain him as much as it entertained Dean. Castiel had begun to suspect he was no good at this human way of interaction, much like slang terms and movie references, but one woman, demon, had proved him wrong.

Instant shame is what Castiel should have felt, but instead, a warm feeling had spread through his face. He lifted a hand to his cheek; a blush had overcome him. Something so strange, so new, as kissing, had caught him off guard. He knew the act of affection was pleasantly simple, but the demon scum had made it horribly complex. His response of slamming her against the wall and proceeding to ravage her mouth did not make it any better. Still, the way she responded, the way she allowed him to lift her and kiss her, never quite left his mind. And he knew from the start she was a demon whore, but she kissed him like a lover, rather than the drooling mess the baby sitter put upon the pizza man. Of course, Castiel's first kiss was his only kiss: there was nothing to hold it up to for comparison.

He could just summon her, or find her and drag her by the head until she answered why she enjoyed his kiss. Suddenly, Dean's words rang in his ears.

_"I'd have given you an hour with her first."_

It dawned upon Castiel that Dean was not talking about torture, but of the same intercourse of the baby sitter and pizza man. A slight throb in his lower half made the Angel speed up his course into the night.

He could just ask someone, or ask Dean, but Dean had told him that you do not speak of pornography to people. The library could hold answers, but Castiel did not understand why a card was necessary to take books. Plus, it was night. He stopped in his tracks.

Since when did the night stop him?

In a blink of an eye, he was inside the library. A calming sense overtook his mind. Castiel rarely read, but to be in a place filled with knowledge and understanding made him feel with purpose. With that, he picked up the nearest book, and sat on the floor.

* * *

It didn't take long before Castiel realized that the library was in sections, and he settled between human health and anatomy. It didn't take him long after that to read every single page that had to do with the female human body. As he finished scanning the last of books, he rose, and disappeared, leaving a scattered mess of books behind him. He was going to find her, for he had big plans for Meg and himself.

Castiel found himself at Dean's bedside. "Dean," he said as he put a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Fucking!" Sleep swam in his mumbling and eyes. "Cas? It's 2AM and my day off, what do you want?"

"I need your help… I need to summon a demon. Does Bobby have the necessary ingredients?"

Dean pulled the thin sheet that covered him over his eyes. "Just take whatever and let me sleep."

"Very well." Castiel moved silently, gathering the needed substances, and fled from the little house. With an armful of peculiar jars and bags, he found himself back at the library. Placing the ingredients on the nearest table, he began mixing, chanting and hoping, that somewhere, inside this demon, lay the answers to the inevitable sensations in this body.

"Clarence? This is a fine surprise."

The Angel turned, and there she was, in all her whorish, demon stained filth. Remarkably, she looked clean in her tight black pants and graphic t–shirt. The same leather jacket from the night before, the same set of lips that eagerly took his was on her as well. "Hello, Meg."

She leaned back, hands in her front pockets, her back against the table that held the summoning things. "Hello, Clarence."

"Why Clarence?"

"Why not?" Before he had a chance to respond, she said, "Why am I here?"

"I have… questions."

"You speak and there are so many pauses. Ask them."

Castiel was at a loss of words at her spunk and audacity. He spoke slowly for others to keep up with him, but she urged him on. She was precise.

"Your vessel, is it always dewy?"

"Excuse me?" The look on her face was sheer confusion.

"Dewy. Do I truly make you dewy?"

A half manic, half amused smile spread across her face. She bit her lip and dragged her eyes up and down his form, an action that made Castiel more than uncomfortable. "What if you do?"

"I want to act upon your feeling of dewy."

There was a single twitch in the right corner of her mouth before she burst into a fit of giggles. The noise was annoying but girlishly pleasant to the Angel. He waited for them to subside. When she saw that he was serious, she fell against the table, laughing louder.

"I do not see how this is a laughing matter."

She choked for air. "What makes you think you make me dewy?"

"You said so." He was speaking quietly, such contrast to her loud voice in the empty of the library. "You kissed me. And when I kissed you again, you did it again." He paused. "With tongue."

"Because I wanted your sword."

"Or because you wanted to kiss me." It was Castiel's turn to twitch at his words.

"What are we, five years old?" She sounded exasperated by him.

"I assure you… I am older." He took a step closer to her, and she took a step back, backing into the table as he approached her. "I just, wanted to try."

"You want to try to have sex with me? Why not use your boyfriend?"

Castiel was perplexed. "How does that work?"

Meg put up her hands as if she was going to shove him away. "You can ask and find out!"

"There's something else." Castiel was now placed in front of her. There was sparks in her eyes. Maybe it was fear, but Castiel knew she knew there was nothing to be afraid of. It was something entirely different. "There's no devil's trap. Nothing keeping you from leaving. Yet, you're still here." She looked above them; no intricate symbols bounded her. "I think it's safe to assume you want to be here."

"You're an average Sherlock Holmes, Clarence." She raised her arms, and he instantly tensed as they wound themselves around his neck. "Do you know what you're asking, Angel?" She had bent his neck to her mouth, his ear at her lips. "Humans have mated with demons before, that has been handled. But there is nothing in your library, nothing in your pretty little grapefruit that tells you of an Angel that has willingly gave himself to a demon?" She flicked her tongue against the lobe of his ear. "There is nothing that can bring you back from this sin."

Castiel pulled away, and just when Meg had placed a look of satisfaction on her face, he pulled her forward by her hips and kissed her.

Her lack of movement made Castiel believed he had deduced incorrectly, but there a press of her hips to his and he knew he had her. They kissed feverishly, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip, pushing his mouth open so she could taste him. And he devoured her taste as well. She tasted clean, but maybe that was just her vessel. Nevertheless, the hypnotic grind of her pelvis on his own made Castiel tear his mouth from her, breathing heavily. If this was truly sin, then may he be damned for the next one hour.

"Don't they… isn't this usually done on a bed? A piano?"

"A piano?" She licked the side of his neck, and his grip tightened on her. "Where did you read about that?"

"A book about the color gray, but not all shades of the color were mentioned. It was very misleading."

"Mm." Meg began to undo the tie around Castiel's neck. "Not very experienced, are we?"

"Not… entirely." He pulled the tie off himself and brought her face to his again. "I can learn."

"Undress me."

Was it supposed to move that quickly? Castiel grasped the edges of Meg's leather jacket, pushing it off her shoulders. He moved in jerking actions, now tossing her t-shirt aside. Two lovely orbs of flesh hung in front of him, adorned by a contraption of black and red cloth.

Meg removed it herself, dropping it to the floor. "Now, I undress you." She pulled off Castiel's trench coat, then his blazer. She yanked his white dress shirt from his trousers.

"I still don't understand how this works without a soft surface."

"Don't you worry Clarence." She undid his belt and the buttons to his pants. "I like a little pain."

This bothered Castiel slightly but when a hand went to his enlarged member, he forgot all that clouded his mind. Slowly, Meg was stroking him through the fabric of his dress pants. He watched her fall to her knees, her fingertips clawing gently over the area. "What are you doing?" A panic rose in his voice.

"The baby sitter didn't teach you this? Let me." Without further ado, she dropped his pants and briefs, eyeing the erection that rose proudly in front of her. She went wide-eyed before kissing the tip. "You're in for a treat."

Jolts of electricity sparked through Castiel as he watched the demon open her mouth and place him inside. When he made a move to protest, her cheeks sucked in and her tongue ran along the shaft and he let out a strangled groan. "What is this," he struggled to ask as she repeated the movement over and over again.

She didn't answer. Instead, she continued to caress his cock with the flesh of her mouth and the skin of her hands. To his amazement, she was soft and gentle, so unlike her nature and stereotype. She moved slowly, licking and sucking, while Castiel's arms latched on to her shoulders in attempts to keep him from falling forward as she pleasured him.

"Do you like it?"

"Ahh." His words were incoherent and his head became fuzzy. "What are you doing to me?" He felt his member being pushed deeper into her throat, the constricting, choking movements sending riveting waves of pleasure through his groin.

"Don't worry baby, I got you." She pushed herself back down on his cock, gagging again, coming back up, and kissing the tip. "Unless you want me to stop." She moved her hands down the wet shaft.

"Never, don't stop!" His words came out in pants as he felt his pelvis move on its own. With her mouth wide open, he pushed into her welcoming opening while tearing off the buttons from his dress shirt.

All too soon, she came back up, settling for a slow kiss on his lips. His eyes closed, his body aching and shaking from the hunger for her. He lifted her again, never taking his mouth from hers as he settled her on the wooden table. Shoving all the cups and materials to the floor, he ripped the pants off her legs.

They were smooth, creamy colored. And it was there she lay: thin, much less intimidating and much more delectable to him. He lifted a leg, kissing her ankle before peeling off the offending material that covered her wet core.

"Don't make me wait anymore Clarence, let's see what else you learned from the pizza man." She sounded breathless, and the way she wiggled her body made Castiel mad with pleasure.

"Am I supposed to touch you… there?"

She let out a growl. "I don't care anymore Castiel, just put it in!"

"You said my name!"

"CASTIEL."

In one fluid movement, he entered her. The contact made him cringe as he squeezed his eyes shut. She was wet, hot, and unbelievably tight. Her insides coated him with warmth like none other.

"Now, move." Her voice was hoarse, her eyes were piercing infernos of passion and fire. "Fuck me."

"Yes," his voice came out in a hiss as he removed himself fully, and slammed into her with all his strength. He repeated the movement, his eyes locked on to hers as her mouth moaned sounds of pleasure and pain. He didn't care if she was hurting; this was better than any amount of alcohol, twenty times better than the girl from the cathouse. Castiel's fingertips were digging into her flesh as he pumped in and out of her, her moans of rapture spurring him on.

"Faster."

The simple command only drove him to obey. No teasing, no tormenting, no torture. He went faster, his hands creating blossoming bruises. The Angel leaned over, the table creaking under his weight and rapid, inhumane movement. Kissing her hard in the mouth, he let a single brush of his thumb over the small, quivering organ that was her clit. With a cry of ecstasy, Castiel fell apart, emptying himself inside of her. With a shout, Meg's own climax quickly followed, her insides tense around him.

The two of them slide from the table, slick with sweat and sex. Heavy breathing and aching muscles over took Castiel's body. If he, an Angel, was so tired from this, he couldn't imagine how humans felt. He looked at her, her chest rising and falling, and a very satisfied grin on her face.

"Something tells me," he managed to gasp out. "That we did it much better than the pizza man."

"Oh baby, we're much better than some cheap porno." She stroked his cheek with a finger; a loving gesture compared to the dirty deed they had committed.

They sat quietly, looking at each other only when the other was faced in the opposite direction. "Is it usually this… exhausting?" The Angel inquired.

Meg smiled a wicked smile. "In my experience, the more exhausting the better." She stood and reached over to pick up her undergarments. Castiel cocked his head to the side before delivering a loud smack to her bum.

She yelped, and threw her panties on his head. "Too soon for that, Clarence, but maybe, just maybe," she leaned close to his mouth. "You can learn to fuck me better than any pizza man that walks this planet."

Castiel felt his member grow hard all over again; he would hold that promise against her soon enough.

* * *

Reviews. They are... nice.


	2. Hotel

Well, here it is. The second hour that Castiel and Meg spend together. To be honest, I'm kind of want to make more chapters of Castiel's sex adventures with Meg, but I have decided to stop this specific story at this chapter, and write more Megstiel smut under other stories. Thanks for reading.

Without further ado, enjoy.

* * *

_"I've got big, big plans_  
_And they've got to mean something more_  
_than just once_  
_I just don't know what I want_

_I'm gonna tear your ass up like we just got married_  
_And you're all mine now_  
_Tonight is the night we've been waiting for all our lives_  
_Or maybe for just tonight"_

_~The Starting Line - Bedroom Talk_

* * *

The only let down of the human world and his vessel for Castiel was that he could not sleep.

He always wondered what it would feel like to lull into unconsciousness, to dream vividly and to keep those dreams a secret from prying minds. Though he had the ability to enter and exit dreams as freely as he pleased, having them seemed like a luxury only meant for humans. To dream was to dive into taboo desires as well as fond and pleasant memories.

Dean had told him that dreaming was the place where what you wanted came to life, even if it was for a few hours. When Castiel asked what Dean dreamt of, Dean's jaw would clench before he forced a smile and said "Women, booze, and pie, Cas. Nothing more I know of." With that said, Castiel learned that not all dreams were welcomed. He learned that some left destruction in their paths. Much like demons.

Castiel naturally began to wonder if demons dreamt. He wondered if _his _demon dreamt. His demon. Castiel's hand unconsciously made a move toward his trench coat; his angel blade secured at his side. Their first touch was because of war; their last touch was because of passion. Her body was vivid in his memory, too bold and prominent. Her eyes were clear in his head. Her voice was snarky and cruel in his ears. And it had been weeks. Yes, weeks. He never summoned her back and she had never called to him. Was this disappointment? Was imagining her there with him, naked, a bad dream in its own way?

The soap dramas he spent mornings watching had told him that after something so climactic, the two humans would meet again, under awkward circumstances. Was it similar for demons and angels? Castiel sighed and looked outside of the motel room where Dean and Sam Winchester slept soundly. He had helped the brother's through many perils. It was time to ask for their aid.

As the night began to fade and the sun just began to bloom, Dean woke. Castiel looked up from his chair as soon as he heard the crinkling of the cheap sheets on the bed.

"Dean." He stood, eyeing Sam, who still lay in slumber. Perhaps this was a conversation just meant for the two of them.

"…Cas." Castiel knew Dean felt uncomfortable with the way he looked at him. It was one of awe, annoyance, and fondness. Dean sat up. "What's up?"

"Eat. I want to talk to you."

"I could go for coffee and pie." Dean rubbed his green eyes, shaking sleep from his body as he stood up. "Let me take a leak and we'll go some place."

"Very well." Castiel looked towards the window. The human world was never truly at rest, and the busy cars on the road, the very essence of being alive, staying alive, and protecting life, reflected Dean and his friendship. The two protected people; protected their own kind from the very thing he wanted the most.

As Castiel sat in the Impala and Dean drove to a small diner, he began doubting even asking Dean of such a favor, such a grand request. But whom else could he possibly turn to? Dean would have to deal with his questions.

Dean ordered an array of breakfast foods and sat down in the booth where Castiel waited. He took a large bite of a bacon, egg and American cheese muffin, oil oozing from the edges. "What's up Cas? Visiting me so early in the morning is a little weird, even for an Angel."

"I had sex with Meg." As Dean choked on his egg muffin, Castiel immediately felt a surge of another emotion. "Perhaps this wasn't the way things like this are said."

"You think, Cas? What the hell were you thinking? She's a demon? Did Sam tell you it's okay to screw around with demon scum?" There was obvious pain and story behind those words.

"I wasn't aware Sam liked demons, nor is that my business." Castiel swallowed. "I… I wanted to. I was drunk and I wanted to. And I want to again."

Dean's face gave a look of incredulous emotion. As if he could not believe what he was hearing. "Well, I mean, you can. Nothing's stopping you."

"Yes there is. I feel like I am inexperienced. I don't want her to have the upper hand over me during out… activities." He could feel awkward vibes from Dean, but he pressed on. "I want to be around her all the time."

Dean took a long sip of coffee. Putting down his cup, he asked, "How long ago was this?"

"A few days after I burned Crowley's bones?"

"Long time then." Dean leaned back. "These things, these… human activities like sex, they take practice." With a stretch, Dean continued. "These things need practice. There's no way to be perfect in sex, or love, or in friendship. There's always some sort of flaw."

"I don't follow."

"You Angels are wired to listen to daddy even though daddy left the house ages ago. You strive for perfection. That doesn't exist in sex. It depends on you two." Dean leaned in as a waitress passed him. "I have been with many women. Some were memorable, others were easily forgotten. And that's the point. Be memorable. She's obviously got you by the balls, so get her back."

Castiel cocked his head, his blue eyes coming to life with curiosity. "With?"

"Uh, well." Dean scratched the back of his head, looking down. "This is so weird. Okay, do you want to try other women?"

"No." Castiel had already pondered that option and he felt ugly for even thinking it.

Dean looked blankly at him. After tearing his eyes away from the Angel's blue orbs, he said, "You could watch more… you know?"

"More pornography?"

The hunter groaned. "Say that a little louder Cas, I'm not sure the waitress heard us."

"MO-"

"NO." Dean buried his head into his hands. "No, I mean, you could. It's the only way to really learn if you don't want to try it out."

Castiel leaned closer. "Very well. Do you have more pizza man films?"

* * *

"How many of these films am I expected to watch?"

"Not so fast, cowboy." The duo had left the diner with an extra plate of pie at Dean's hand. Somehow, Castiel had more questions than before. "There are some ground rules."

"Rules?"

"Yeah, rules." Dean opened the refrigerator, gave one fond look to the slice of pie, and placed it on the top shelf. "No matter how much you like it, if a girl says no, you stop."

"I'm aware."

"Okay. Good. Now, I'm not sure how this entire demon angel mating cycle works…"

Castiel swallowed, looking down. "I know. I don't think her vessel can become pregnant, nor can I… fertilize a woman."

Dean looked at him with a sly grin. "Lucky you. Humans need to protect themselves from all sorts of bad things, children that are unexpected too." He sat on the bed that he had previously slept on. "How the best thing to do is to just experiment with what she may like." He picked up the remote next to him and turned on the television. "That's where these come in.

* * *

"Thank you for choosing the Marriot Hotel! Please enjoy your stay!" The woman at the lobby desk gave Castiel an artificial smile before handing over a set of key cards for his hotel room.

"Don't tell me what to do." He lifted the bag over his shoulder and left the woman giving him a disapproving gaze at his back. As he entered the elevator, she closed his eyes and told himself to talk deep, easy breaths. Dean had told him plenty; enough to spend days with Meg. But he would give her only one hour, mostly for his own sanity. Already, he felt his body getting too attached to the biting words she could say, and the warmth her skin gave off when she reached orgasm. If he got too addicted to her, things would not end as well as they did in the human soap dramas.

His body felt weightless as he took the lift to the upper floors. Room 1114. His mind perceived this as unreal, as if it was another mystifying world that he had entered to fulfill his dark secret. Perhaps, this was a dream as well. Castiel's hand fumbled with the card and he mentally cursed himself as he finally got the blasted door open. If he were this clumsy now, he'd never be in control when she came.

Dean had gone to great lengths to provide a place of quiet and simple, yet large and spacious room for him to work with. The suite had a small, but stocked kitchen with a coffee maker and an assortment of welcoming chocolates and coffee brews. A large pillar connected to half a wall with a cut out square window that separated the kitchen from the living room. A flat screen television stuck out from the wall farthest from the kitchen and a leather couch and glass square table were placed in front of the TV. White carpet was plush underneath Castiel's shoes. There were two doors: a bedroom and a bathroom. Setting his bag on the glass table, he walked to the farthest door and quietly opened it.

Inside, a large bed with what seemed to be soft as cloud, dark blue and black bedding welcomed it. A dresser with a mirror faced the bed, and a large window with dark blue curtains was to the left. He closed the door, leaving everything in the room untouched. He planned to create the perfect disaster with her in there, later.

Walking back to the living room, he sat on the leather couch and closed his eyes, letting worn fingers rub worry and anxiety from them. This was it. Rebelling against Heaven, aiding the Winchester brothers to evade the Angels, those were things he could deal with. Sins, all of them, but he could deal with them. Yet being with her, willingly, was a whole new concept. His first time in a library with her was out of curiosity, but this was fueled by the fire of wanting her in ways that no other being or specimen could give him. He put on half a smile when he thought of the idea of lying with one of his brothers or sisters. It was awkward in his head, never as exciting as the thought of lying with her.

_Her_. Castiel only had called her, "her". At first, Castiel found her name to be annoying as used the pronouns of her and she so he didn't have to spit her name from his lips. But it had turned much more intimate. Because there was no other relevant or important woman in his life, he simply referred to her as "Her". The way she had awed him, the way she had took him with not a single hesitation, accepted him with not a blink of her eyes, he felt her name should only be said as if it was prayer: only done when he felt lost and alone. It was paralyzing how her name grounded him when he wandered so many streets in the night, alone, and miserable.

Castiel knew for a fact he was falling into a borderlines obsession with her. But as he stood to his feet and opened his bag, he realized he could not, and did not care. He would be above her no matter what; it was a "perk of being an Angel" according to Dean, much like how the Den of Iniquity was a perk of rebellion. He took out a small container of red paint and small brush before pushing the leather couch back and placing the glass table in the center of the room. With easy skill, he began to paint the necessary symbols for her summoning. A jar of this, a pinch of that, a vial of human blood, a spring of thyme, all mixed into a wooden bowl with intricate design. The Angel began to chant his desire before dropping a single lit match into the bowl.

Flames rose high and the room shook slightly. His heavy breathing was now visible in forms of wispy, cool clouds of air. Whatever dim lighting that was on as the day grew into night had begun to flicker erratically.

And there she was.

"Clarence, what a surprise." And he kissed her before she could say anymore.

Castiel's hand cupped her neck in a firm manner, bringing her mouth to his in a hot, desperate manner. She pushed away briefly, her eyes wild. "Clarence, what are you-" He kissed her again, cutting her off before tearing her jacket off her shoulders.

"No more words," he blew into her ear as his hands slid up her shirt, moving her body towards his. "I'm sick of words." He couldn't even recognize his own voice; such a craze had overtaken him by the mere sight of her.

As if she was reading his mind, as if she understood the torment that would come if she stopped him now, Castiel felt her full lips open under his own. His previously closed eyes had opened, and he pulled himself back, taking in the sight of her before he leaned in again, to dominate her mouth. His tongue ran across her lower lip as their pelvises brushed.

When Meg began to push her form into his in a seducing manner, Castiel lifted her high into the air. The unexpected movement made her squeal in a girlish manner as her head slammed into the nearest wall. What was a squeak had turned into a deep groan of pain and pleasure.

Hoisting her against the wall, Castiel let her legs twine around his body. He took the easy access of her lips now that they were leveled, and moved his hands back to her chest. Yanking her t-shirt up, he tore himself form her mouth and held her gaze as he curiously palmed her right breast.

Meg shuddered at his bold contact. "What's gotten into you, Castiel?" It was at that moment when Castiel knew he had her.

He let his head trace from her cheek to her neck, his forehead resting right in the crook of her smooth skin. His fingers pressed into the flesh of her upper body. "I want you." The statement was so simple and empowering, that Meg twitched against him. He pulled his eyes from her breasts to her eyes. "And I am not going to wait anymore."

"Then let's not waste anymore time."

Castiel was amazed. "I wasn't going to ask for your permission." He leaned his head back into the slopes of her breasts, and gave a lick towards the left one. Another twitch from the quivering demon. "I fully intend to make you dewy."

Without another word, Castiel latched onto her nipple and flicked it hard with his tongue, eliciting another groan from her. Sliding her from the wall, his mouth never left the tortured little tip as he moved her from the wall and to the bedroom.

Kicking the door wide open, he threw her onto the bed before crawling over her. His hand went to his neck, tugging at his tie, taking off his own trench coat, never taking his blue eyes from her darker ones. She smiled at him sweetly, and then pounced.

Castiel felt the wind get knocked out of him. He fell backward, his head dipping off the bed as she made kisses at his neck, removing his tie completely and unbuttoning his white dress shirt. He pulled her up by her long locks of hair, searching her lips again.

"Meg," he moaning in between lip locking.

"Yes, Castiel?" She pulled off his other blazer. His head was in her hands, much like his mental balance.

"Mine." He moved up so fast, she fell back on to pillows. With one swift movement, he ripped her t-shirt in two, making her whimper at his great strength. He gave one more kiss to her now bruising lips before kissing downwards back to her breasts.

Giving each tip a good suckling, he kissed down her naval. Her breathing, her little noises of pleasure were symphonies to him. It was like he could play her, any way, anywhere, and it would still be the same symphony that kept him stable.

"I learned a few things today." He ran his hands down her hips and to her legs. "From a school teacher. A doctor. A police officer."

Meg grinned at him, and he knew she was proud of whatever he was planning. "Show me what you got then, big boy."

The ripping of jeans was just as easy as her shirt. Throwing the pieces aside, Castiel gave a slow lick of his lips as he slowly unwrapped the fabric that was her underwear. She was beautiful everywhere. For a demon, he reminded himself.

"I want you to tell me what I am doing to you."

"Angel likes to hear the voice of sin?"

"This Angel wants to hear what makes you dewy." He tossed her panties behind him and kissed the very top of her mound. "Start talking, or I stop moving." And by the way she bit her lips and closed her eyes and wriggled towards the heat of his breathing, she would comply.

"You've undressed me." Her voice came out small, but breathy.

"Yes, I have." He drank in the view of her pelvis, how he could see how "dewy" she really was by the moisture that pooled around her thighs. He slid his index finger between her folds, creating small circles around the little bundle of nerves. Meg jumped at the contact instantly.

"And now?" Castiel's voice was mocking, yet deep and serious at the same time.

"Now you're just toying with me." She gave him a shrewd grin, but they both knew how lust had driven into her eyes.

Castiel cocked his head at her. "Perhaps," he said slowly. And just as slowly as he spoke to her, he pushed a digit inside of her soaking pussy. A low whimper came from Meg as he continued to push his finger in and out. "But something tells me being toyed with makes you even more dewy."

"Castiel!"

"Yes, Meg?"

"Please?"

He looked up at her. Her cheeks were frenzied with color and her hair was an unruly mess against the sheets. "Until you say what I want to hear, I will go as slow as it takes."

She threw her head back against the pillows. "You're fucking me, you're fucking me with your fingers!"

"Fingers?" Castiel faked a voice of confusion. "Well, if you insist." He pushed his middle finger inside of her as well, pumping both in and out as she let out cry after cry of delirium. He watched her carefully as she withered in her own pleasure. This was a moment he wanted to etch into his memory forever. The way she shook and pleaded, the way her voice was going higher, her back arching from the bed; he wanted to memorize it all.

"Castiel, please-"

The devious Angel cut her off again. "I wonder how you taste."

Her eyes opened at the projected thought. Castiel felt hands on his head. "Try me," she panted.

With a probing motion of his tongue, he did.

"Oh my god."

"God can't save you from what I have planned for you." He licked at the little nub again and again, feeling her shake with each flick. When she had sighed at him letting up, he latching his lips onto her clit and sucked hard, spiraling her back into a whirlwind of an oncoming orgasm.

"CASTIEL!" She shouted his name as her body gave into the orgasm. Castiel eagerly lapped at her, her essence and juices becoming his sustenance. He brought her back down slowly from her peak and she sighed against the bed as he disrobed from his shirts and slacks.

"What do you think I have planned for you now?" His voice was deep, haunting. He made his way over to her, settling himself right between her lean legs.

"Mm," Meg made noises of approval as the Angel ran his shaft along her sensitive pussy. "Are you gonna fuck me, Clarence?"

He didn't answer, but locked onto her gaze, just like their first time, as he entered her, hard and powerfully. Her mouth had gone into the shape of an "o" as Castiel met her body with his with thrust after thrust.

He covered her body with his as he drove deeper and deeper into her hot cavern, her moans escalating to shouts of pure glee and ecstasy. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she kissed him with forceful lips. Castiel eagerly returned the affection, drowning in her scent, her sex, and her lust. It was as if her tongue was beckoning him to fuck her harder, to make her scream his name to wake the entire population of the hotel.

"Tell me you like it," he gasped as he brought them up into a sitting position. She sat deliciously on his dick as he lifted her by her bottom, moving her up and down.

"I fucking LOVE it." Her declaration only spurred him on, her insides being unbelievably tight against his shaft.

"I like fucking you Meg." He stopped moving her and pulled her head back by her hair. He kissed her neck before biting softly into it. "I like it when you say things like that.

In one fluid movement, he turned her around and on her knees, facing the mirror. Castiel reentered her warm pussy, and it held onto him like a vice grip. "Now watch me fuck you."

Before she could say, he slammed into her, rocking the bed. Meg tossed her head back, speechless, and he forced her back, at the mirror again. "Nu, uh. Mirror. Watch me fuck you beyond your wildest dreams."

She made incoherent noises as he continued to fuck her into a vortex of endless rapture and toxicity. And as she grew tighter and tighter against him, he became desperate to make her orgasm against him.

"Let go for me, Meg!" He pulled her up against his chest, grabbing her chin forcefully. Squeezing her face and pushing in and out, he gave one more command. "NOW!"

She screamed his name as she orgasmed on his cock for the second time in his existence. Quickly as she came, Castiel gave one final thrust into her and his own orgasm followed. With pants of dizzying passion, he pulled out and fell on his back, but not before taking her with him.

His penis was hard against her thighs as they gulped breaths of air. Obvious purple bruising had begun to form on Meg's hips, yet she kissed him hard on his lips, biting down on them before moving away and giving him a satisfied smile.

It was minutes before she spoke to him. "Don't you worry. I've hurt you too."

Castiel raised an eyebrow. "I don't feel anything."

She gently pushed him on his side and pressed a finger to his back. Castiel felt a sting, and shifted away. "I've scratched you." She kissed the welts lightly and the back of his neck before facing him again.

"I… don't mind."

"You learned a lot."

Castiel knew this conversation was inevitable, much like the reddening of his cheeks. "I suppose I did."

Meg looked at him with a coy smile. "Don't you get all shy at me now, Clarence, not after that past hour."

"The past hour. And the hour at the library." Castiel turned to her, his alarmingly blue eyes meeting hers. "I enjoy them and I enjoy you."

"Honesty's the best policy." She got up, lifting the dark sheets with her. They wrapped around her like a glove, and Castiel was fascinated at the way her curves looked in the black silk.

"Do you want true honesty?"

"Give it to me Clarence."

"You make me dewy too. And I like making you dewy." His words were not careful as he always intended them to be. For some reason, around her, they came out rushed and unorganized. But his point was made. "I like sex with you."

Meg turned and gave him a naughty smile before pinching the sides of his face. "Aw, CLARENCE. I like being fucked by you." She secured the sheet around her, swatting Castiel's prying hands from it. "But this entire, ripping clothes thing you have going on? That's a no-no."

"I like you naked," Castiel plainly stated.

"I'm sure you do." She waved at him airily. "You may have caught me off guard this time. But I have a trick up my sleeve."

With the way she looked at him, Castiel knew she wasn't kidding. "Will you come see me, next time?"

"We'll see." She winked at him, and if there was one thing for certain, it was that Castiel would be looking forward to that day.

* * *

Reviews, and especially thoughts, are appreciated. xx


	3. Sounds

It looks like this is going to be a full story now, making this my first continuous Supernatural story. Thank you for everyone who has reviewed this story and urged me to make this into a full story. I will try my best to add some sort of plot and depth, while allowing our Angel to sexually explore our favorite demon.

This chapter has some darker elements in it, but it's nothing too bad. Enjoy.

* * *

_"And if you're looking for romance_  
_Baby take your chance and tie me up."_

_~ Dirty Stop Out - Tie Me Up._

* * *

There is no way that Castiel could have predicted this. She did well. Catching him off guard was something that got an A+ in his book. Unfortunately for him, her efforts had succeeded, and it was almost a shame that he let his guard down so quickly. He learned to fight, to torture, to please. But this was a whole new level of deceit on her part.

It had all started at the hotel room, in the soft bed where they had laid. After spending moments in each other's embrace, she pulled away. Dressing and a bit more undressing but finally dressing again, she vanished, leaving the Angel to laze in bed with the promise of fun the next time they'd meet. Soon after that, Castiel decided it was time to return to his Winchesters. As he too began to dress, the scent of Meg's skin lingered, and more than ever, he wanted to dive back into the sheets and stay wrapped around her delightful aroma. She smelled of sex and sin. She smelled of woman and desire. And most of all, she smelled like him too.

Perhaps the trouble began when Castiel stood at the roof of the building, listening to a high pitch scream coming from the room service maid. He had simply left all the symbols in blood painted on the walls, and didn't see the need to discard of the smoking bowl and ingredients if she was paid to do so herself. It only occurred to him at that moment that not all humans were readily accepting of Angels and other supernatural beings like the Winchesters.

The Winchesters. The Angel sighed. Though Dean had provided the means for their latest sexual adventure, he was nonetheless clearly distraught that his Angel friend was hooked on a demon. Coming home, Castiel had tried to explain how wonderful their sex was, but Sam had cut him off and Dean simply went wide-eyed. Maybe this was what Dean had meant; Sam knew the feeling of being with someone completely unlike you.

When Dean continued to give him a disapproving look, Sam gently pulled his older brother back. "If it makes him happy, well, who are we to stop him?"

"Yes, who are you, Dean, to stop me?" He was almost taken back from his own audacity; he had never dismissed Dean's opinion like that before, nor had he planned to take so little of his opinion to heart.

"I'm your friend Cas. I just want you to know what you're getting yourself into. Ask Sam. Demon rarely, if ever, helps us."

Castiel stood his ground. "She helped us. I intend to make the most out of our new friendship."

Dean muttered something about freaking angels, which only sent giddy sensations through Castiel. He didn't let Dean's negative emotions bother him; rather, he took enjoyment in Dean's choice to drop the topic. After all, he was an Angel, and Castiel knew the spectrum of human emotions was not something he'd be feeling very often. The tingling happiness, the sensual stimulations, the rage, and the anger were all very new to him, and he had spent the latter of the two with the Winchesters. To experience new feelings with someone entirely new was a challenge he'd gladly take part in.

Of course, the Angel didn't know if his demon felt the same way. Frankly, he didn't want to dwell on that either. All he wanted and all he needed, he received from her, no questions, no bounds. And if he was addicted to her, so be it.

So as days passed, Castiel spent his time humming to himself, aiding the Winchesters as best as he could. All other worries were drowned with her memory. Her presence in his thoughts was like a light at the end of a tunnel, and he would no longer walk to it, nor would he run. He'd spread his wings and fly.

But with the promise of her "fun" still haunting in the back of his mind, Castiel could only wonder what she had planned. Would she lavishly present herself to him, her clothes pooled on the floor, with her body decadently sprawled out in front of his eyes? Or would she surprise him as he surprised her, only on a much larger scale? The ideas had sent his blood racing. She was a woman of wonders.

However, he could not have predicted the next few days.

They dragged on. It was like the days prior to their second meeting; he felt that he had to call out to her again. But Meg had assured him well enough in between kisses that she'd come to him the next time. Restlessness had plagued his body. His limbs ached and his body stiffened at the thought of her. If he could no longer wait, he'd come to her.

When the final straw had been pulled and yanked, he began gathering the needed ingredients for her summoning.

"Nope, not here Cas." Dean stood at the doorway. Castiel turned and gave him a look of mere curiosity, but he knew that Dean saw right through his act. "Not here Cas, you can't bring her here."

"She is obviously on our side Dean."

"This isn't about sides."

"Then what is it about?"

Dean shifted from foot to foot. "I don't think I'm exactly up for hearing what goes on between you two."

Castiel gave him another look, as if the answer could be easily found. "Not an issue. I can gag her quite well-"

"No, no, you see that is the issue," Dean hastily said, his eyes incredulous at the Angel's suggestion. "Just, not here, okay Cas?"

Castiel look to the ground, his eyes on the shoes of his friend. "…Very well."

"Thank you." Dean shut the door behind him, leaving the Angel to grumble to himself. Where could he possibly perform a ritual without the risk of interruption?

"Maybe the library will be open," he wondered out loud.

There was a suddenly flash next to him, and a grip tight on his shoulder that spun him a full circle around. Now face to face with his demon, the last thing he remembered was a strong smell, so unlike hers. The toxic fumes made his eyelids droop, and as he punched and fought against her, she kissed the tip of his nose, and gently laid him on the bed. The last thing the Angel saw was her snarky and triumphant grin.

* * *

Castiel had opened his eyes and he was faced to face with red and white. White walls, ceiling, and a white door across from him, providing entrance and exit. Red, looping symbols around the room greeted his blurry vision. He then smelled smoke, but nothing he could choke or gasp on. No. It was the remnants of holy fire, and it's charred remains in a perfect, large circle around him.

Not that it was needed. The symbols kept him trapped inside and kept everything on the outside from coming it. He turned his head to see dark leather straps on his wrists. Her jerked and pulled, but it proved to be fruitless: he was trapped. The same applied to his ankles, which were shackled to what he guessed to be a large board. The floor was wooden. There were no windows, unless they were behind him. It was just an Angel trapped in a white room.

And thus, Castiel, an Angel of the Lord had been shamelessly duped by a conniving demon.

Castiel couldn't recall how long he was strapped down to this contraption, nor could he send out a message to Dean or Sam. Not that he wanted to. Her scent was obvious. He should have realized that the amount of force he had used during their previous time together would one day reverberate back at him. She had promised him she would have fun. If this were her definition of fun, then he'd be glad to play.

So he semi stood in place, thinking of an escape route. He had stretched his senses as far as they could be, but all his vision could show him was the white room, and all his ears could provide was a haunting silence. Castiel imagined her footsteps: dainty but authoritative. That was all he was waiting for. Her footsteps.

And as he waited, he could only think of the hilarity and weirdness of the situation. To start, it confused him that he was still fully clothed. If she truly wanted him at her mercy, wouldn't he be naked? And why white? He felt that the darker setting suited their activities, proven by the lack of light in the library and the black and blue sheets in the hotel room. He credited her windowless, pure room, but at the same time, it reminded him too much of Heaven.

Castiel cursed himself for even thinking of the damned place at a time like this. He had been gone for much too long but he felt little regret in his decisions. A place that was once in synch like a perfect harmony and calming melody was not just chaos and noise. The gardens, the perfect setting, none of it made him comfortable anymore simply because it was a lie that he could only live with for so long. As little sense at it made, Meg's white room was more comforting. He could almost bark at the irony. She yet to step into the room, but he enjoyed the thought of it.

But patience was wearing thin. Minutes of his day were worn away like the soles of Dean's muddy sneakers. Did she intend to leave him here so he could rot away? Or was she going to keep him here forever, so that she could have him at arm's reach for fun and games? Castiel pondered the thought. Forever. She was a demon, and he, an Angel. It could be possible.

Then, he heard it.

_Click._

A faint clicking noise and it was getting louder.

Louder, and more importantly, it grew closer to his door. Did she finally decide to return to him?

But the clicking continued to his door and right past him, fading away, leaving the bound Angel in silence once again. He felt unbelievably blank for a moment, the vessel's heart sinking back from his throat.

Castiel had no idea of time, or what day of the week it was, or even if the sun was out. All that proved to be true was his bindings and she, and he was beginning to wonder if it was specifically Meg Masters that successfully brought him here all… hog-tied…? There was no gag, nothing keeping him from screaming for help. But his own pride kept him from doing so. Why was he so silent? Then again, if he yelled, who would listen? Was she even here? Was anyone here? The endless circle of thoughts was creating a hurricane in his head and it left him reeling. No, he had to believe it was her doing.

_Fear._

His nerves fired the emotion and it coursed through his mind and made his fists tremble. Castiel took a deep breath and willed the shaking to stop, to be logical about his current situation. When he found the hurricane still whirling, he closed his eyes and hung his head limply, taking a much more calm breath than the one before, aiming to relaxing himself.

Castiel began to count.

Slowly, but surely, at 50 seconds, he felt the trembling cease. His fists uncurled at the one minute 26 second mark, and by the third minute, all excitement, including his once raging libido, had come under control.

That is, until the clicking noise came back.

As soon as it began again, his heart kick started itself, beating widely against his ribcage in earnest. The Angel repeated this breathing and counting seconds ritual again and again, stopping when his emotions were back in control, but only to start again as soon as the noise would come. All it came to be was random clicking. No pattern. Just on and off, going past his door, and trailing into the unknown.

At the sixth set of clicking, he finally snapped. "MEG, I KNOW IT'S YOU." He hoarsely called her name. "MEG!"

But there was no response.

* * *

_Tired._

The bindings that once excited him left him wanting him to tear his own hair out. He had stopped counting, stopped thinking all together. Sweat began to dampen the roots of his hair and brow, the insides of his cheeks were bitten and gnawed upon because of anxiety, and his knuckles felt worn from the constant opening and closing of his fists. Castiel couldn't even tell if there was anymore clicking or not; a part of him had shut down completely. Feeling utterly hopeless and strung up, Castiel bowed his head and willed for sleep, or something close to that, to ease him.

There was a sudden click and a loud creak, then a bang, and the forlorn Angel's head jolted awake from its daze. His bloodshot eyes landed on the most relieving sight in all of his existence. She wore little compared to her usual get ups. His vision focused on the curve of her neck and the way it led to a generous v-cut t-shirt. Black, of course. Black jeans, tight everywhere, with a simple holster on her thigh. Her smile was infectious, her eyes were gleaming, and her cleavage sparked his body back to life. Castiel said nothing, but he bore his eyes into hers.

"Don't look at me like that Clarence. I just wanted to see you."

"You have me Meg. Something tells me you've always had."

"That's a pretty bold thing to say." She walked to him casually, her hips naturally swaying to her internal beat as he remembered. Castiel swallowed all the pent up lust and mentally cursed himself for even looking in her direction. She put her hand on his chest and hummed to herself as she patted his head in a loving manner.

Castiel, on the other hand, tried to keep a steady breath as she touched him in a nonchalant manner. It drove him made knowing that she was quickly dismissing their past sexual endeavors with silly gestures and petting. He growled in response to her and squirmed as she traced a thin finer down his cheek.

"Meg," trying to speak clearly and as angrily as possible. "I was worried."

"I know Clarence. It was exciting to hear you rustle around." She spoke softly in his ear. "There's no need to be afraid." Castiel subconsciously gulped; her breath in his ear was so distracting. She twined her arms around his waist and looked at him with girlish and wicked intent. "My Angel looks so beautiful all tied up. Do you like it?"

"No Meg, I don't. Let me down, and I can show you what I'd really like from you."

She chuckled darkly, a sound that only ensured Castiel's theory that she'd have him hanging here forever. "And have you over power me again? Never." She slid her hands down his hips, the motion causing his hips to retract back into the surface behind him.

_Trapped._

"See, Clarence, I like it like this. You're like my favorite doll that I can play with." And her hands found the belt that kept him from falling apart then and there. "A doll that I can undress." Castiel watched the demon pull at the belt of his trousers until it loosened and hung at his sides.

Helpless, but only fascinated, he leaned into her face, aching to capture her lips. She easily evaded him, nuzzling her forehead into the crook of his neck. Her fingers hooked the waistband of his pants and teasingly pulled them towards her before snapping it back into place. She gave him a coy grin directed to his growing and obvious frustration. "No, no Castiel. It's my time to play."

Castiel groaned in deliriously joy and fading patience as Meg sank to her knees. With a traumatizing and slow pace, she unzipped the confinements and unleashed his manhood. Castiel stared, wide eyes at the demon, giving him a tantalizing and wet lick to the very tip of him.

_Speechless. _

"Are you having fun now?" Her tongue was warm on his skin and her breath sent shivers through his pelvis.

Overwhelmed with pleasure, Castiel could only nod. There were not enough words in his vocabulary to define he feeling that racked his body, as he grew closer to orgasm. He felt his body swell when she sucked her cheeks in and he shuddered in delight when her tongue bathed the head on his enlarged member. The onslaught of orgasm coursed through his veins, so close to breaking and crying out her name, when Meg suddenly stopped.

Castiel opened his eyes again as she raked her nails down his chest to his pelvis. Is member leaked with essence, so ready to burst. But she made no move to satisfy him. Castiel snarled in sheer anger. "Meg-"

Meg silenced his words with a kiss. He kissed back eagerly as she bit into his bottom lip. Her hands twined to his head, lightly pulling at his hair as she grated her pelvis into his. Castiel could hardly see straight. He found his hips unconsciously meshing with hers, eager to drive himself to orgasm if she wouldn't.

But all too soon, Meg pulled away again. She pecked him is a chaste manner and flounced (which Castiel found to be extremely unlike her) back away from him. His hard cock stuck out of his pants, the trench coat he loved shadowing the edges.

They locked eyes but it was Meg that spoke. "Wasn't that fun, Castiel?"

He wanted to bark at her, threaten to tear her into pieces as soon as she let him go, but her next actions made his breath hitch in his throat.

_Undress._

Castiel watched Meg take her time undoing the holster at her thigh before dropping it to the floor. She did a turn so her back was to him, his eyes roaming her fine curves from behind. Her hands took the bottom edges of her simple black t-shirt and pulled it up and over her head. Her hair falling back into place, she extended her left arm out, waited a second, and dropped the garment to the floor.

Hypnotized at the show she was putting on, the Angel watched with eager eyes. She started to walk away from him as she rustled with her own belt, tossing it aside as well when it came undone. Off with her right boot, and the left promptly followed.

If possible, Castile grew even more aroused when she slid out of the jeans and kicked them behind her. She didn't turn around for one second, even though he knew she was well aware at the sheer insanity he felt by her behavior. Halfway out the door, she removed her bra, and hung it on the doorknob. What seemed to take the longest was the way she stripped out of the racy thong that adorned her hips. But when that finally came off, it joined the rest of the offending clothes on the floor; spots of black against the white carpet and purity.

She closed the door behind her, and Castiel could have almost wailed until he heard her fingers snap.

* * *

_Snap._

Within that second, the bindings on his wrists vanished, and his ankles became free. Half stumbling to the ground, the Angel staggered to his feet, his erection long and hard and his desire untamed and unleashed. Walking to the door, Castiel shed himself of the trench coat, then his blazer.

Opening the door, she was gone, but he expected that much. Wrenching the tie looser from his neck, he unbuttoned each button from his shirt and peeled that off as well. Sweat stuck to him like skin, and excitement drove the beast inside of him. He began opening and closing whatever doors that stood in his way.

_Games._

Her voice. He swore he heard it on his left, but turning quickly, she was nowhere in sight. She was toying with him, literally toying. Mind games, only naked. How shameless. How fun.

Castiel let his senses over take the proximity, and suddenly, he was at her side, in another room. Pushing her to the floor, he pinned her wrists above her head on the plush of the carpet they landed on. And he devoured her.

His mouth roamed against hers, swallowing each moan and kiss she gave him. Moving relentlessly and quickly, he shoved the rest of his pants down and entered her quickly, her wet cavern hot and slick against his throbbing cock.

Her moans were music, her nail scratching was ritual, and the way her hips met his was perfection. Castiel braced her shoulders down and fucked her cruelly, focusing on his own carnivorous desire. Hot, heavy panting that he breathed in from her lips every time he dove back into a kiss, he brought his body slamming back into hers. Uncaring about injury, putting aside all pride, he opened his eyes and locked them onto hers. Never breaking eye contact, he brought them both to a shaking orgasm.

Spent, he relinquished the tight grip on her body. Castiel took deep breaths. Still inside of her, he relished how her body continued to spasm around his member though he had stopped moving. Her skin was flushed bright red on the places where he had gripped her. When he finally picked himself to look at her, there was a coy smile on her face.

"Hunger drives the beast."

How it did indeed. Castiel said nothing; he knew that she had clearly won this round. Dean had taught him to fight. God taught him to obey. Lucifer and his brethren taught him pain. Meg, however, tested his self-control, which he had failed to learn.

_Oh well._

Removing himself from her, Castiel lifted her easily, wobbling slightly when Meg lurched forward to wrap her les around him. She laughed at the kisses he trailed down her neck, and suddenly, Castiel felt the mood transition from rough and desperate to a more tender feeling. Her little hands pawed at his back as he kissed her mouth hungrily. Her flesh was on fire under his fingertips as he backed her into the nearest wall. "I could never satisfy my thirst for you." He kissed her deeply again. "And I," he said in between more kisses. "Still." His hand trailed down her naval, curious to search. "Want."

He never finished his thought; a gasp came from Meg's mouth as his hand slid to her warm core. Thrusting two fingers inside of her easily, he watched her mouth grow wider and her eyes squeeze shut as his thumb circled her clit.

"Castiel!" Her heels dug into the small of his back. He felt her squirm as he hoisted her higher and drove his fingers deeper. He watched her peak and orgasm. Castiel was positive that each orgasm was more beautiful and more powerful than the last. Meg felt forward on his shoulders, her moans skittering across his skin.

Still holding her against the wall, Castiel looked at her with a deep curiosity. "If being your doll meant we could play any time, then I wouldn't mind being a doll."

Meg lifted her head and smirked. "Are you admitting you liked being held against your will?"

Castiel slid his manhood against her folds, eliciting another breathy moan. "Maybe. I didn't know torture could be used in sex."

"The more you know, the better." She tightened her hold on his waist, pushing him closer to her. The friction made his nerves spark.

"I could do this forever," he moaned. The very tip of his member brushed against her opening. Temptation called to him; the need to be one with her was so overwhelming, he could feel his insides shaking at the lack of contact.

Meg kissed him out of nowhere. "Do it now. Forever can wait."

Unable to hold back, the Angel slowly pushed himself inside of her. He lifted his gaze to hers, only to skim it back down as he watching his body move on its own accord.

_Cosmic. _

Each stroke was deliberate and smooth, provocative and erotic. He fucked her silently, keen on recording every second, every little noise she made. And when she finally met his lips, Castiel became fully aware at how honest his words were. If there were a choice, he would spend forever in between her legs. As long as he was allowed to venture into new waters with her, as long as his name was between her lips, he wouldn't mind forever.

"MEG!" With a final jerk, he let himself fall into pleasure and into her body. Still clutching her body, he shuddered and let himself sink to the floor with her in his arms.

Minutes passed, then moments, then an unknown amount of time. Neither of the two moved, nor did Castiel make an effort to. Usually she picked herself up and disappeared, but this time, she lay in his arms as if she was drugged by his presence. He sure felt that way about the past few hours.

However, it dawned upon Castiel that the reason why neither had moved was because of his previous words. He found it odd that she wasn't repulsed by such an idea. He looked at her and found her eyes were closed. _Demons didn't sleep, so she must be thinking. _What they had now, it was perfect as it is.

So what else did he want from her?

Absentmindedly, the Angel swept stray hairs from her face. "Meg?"

"Mm?"

"Did you want to rest somewhere?"

"Here is fine. I've been in rooms much worse than this."

Her words tugged at him. Still naked and warm, Castiel closed his eyes and held her tightly. Within a second, they were in a creaky room within the building. The walls were old and there was a thin layer of dust on the old fashioned furniture. There was a poster bed with tattered drapes and a window. Placing her on the bed, he opened the window, letting sunlight stream in.

Observing the placement of everything in the room, Castiel finally put a finger to where she had brought him. They were in an old, abandoned hotel room, yet that one room he was tied to was completely white and clean. Had she prepared this entire façade for him? He smiled away from her. Today, he would leave her, and though he knew she was safe, something inside of him wanted to stay and watch over her for as long as his existence would allow.

But forever could wait.

* * *

Thoughts and reviews are appreciated very much so. xx


	4. Pizza

Nope. Meg is still alive in my imagination. But really, what an explosive episode. I enjoyed it every much, and I hope you all did as well. And so, the plot of our ever growing show continues on, even without our favorite demon. Many people were asking about my outtake of what would have happened with "ordering pizza and moving furniture". So here it is. Enjoy, and thank you for reading.

* * *

_"May all these walls we've made in our wasted years and days_  
_Not stand in our way that we may feel the winds of change, change_

_If these walls could sing, they'd sing us a hundred songs_  
_And if these walls could talk, they'd say they'd seen it coming all along, all along"_

_~The Bouncing Souls - The Pizza Song._

* * *

"I… I apologize. I didn't realize I was being so rough with you."

"I like it kinky, Clarence. Don't you worry your pretty little head over me." She gave him one of her small and flirty smiles. "It's not sex if it doesn't hurt."

Castiel had flown back to the Winchesters after his meet up with Meg in her abandoned hotel. Neither Sam nor Dean had questioned his time away. It made Castiel feel extremely independent. For such a long time, he felt his duties were simply towards aiding the two brothers in their quest to bring peace to the humans of Earth. Though he knew he was free to do whatever he pleased, he felt as if he should keep a more watchful eye on them. That being said, he often let himself watch over Dean, hoping he'd be in a better mental condition than his previous days.

Watching over Dean almost had romantic notions, but Castiel felt that his bond with Dean was simply a heavenly friendship. That this was fate, that Castiel was created not only to appease to God himself, but also to watch over the Winchesters. Over the course of his time on Earth, he'd hear Sam, Meg, even Dean, humor themselves over how Castiel never left Dean's side. They even hinted towards passionate love making while Sam went out to jog and stolen kisses when no one else was looking. Castiel was moved by the fact that something so beautiful could bloom between he and his human friend, but he did not reciprocate those exact feelings, and he knew that Dean did not as well. What they had was a friendship that many people would long for. What they had was a brotherly affection that matched Dean's relationship with Sam. What they had experienced together was tragic, horrendous, and life ruining. However, it was their friendship, their inability to doubt each other, their profound bond, that pulled them through everything that tried to tear them apart. Castiel was more than thankful to Dean, and he knew that Dean was forever in Castiel's debt as well.

So when Castiel finally appeared back to Dean's side, he found that Dean was no longer as angry as he was before about his relationship with the demon. In fact, Dean kept most of his snarky comments to himself, only slightly mumbling them to himself or Sam. Sam was more understanding, having accepted his extracurricular activities from the very start. Perhaps Sam had spoken to Dean while he was away; either way, Castiel was relieved to see that Dean would no longer pester about Meg's presence in Castiel's life. Nonetheless, Dean raised a difficult question.

"Are you just using the thing?"

"She is not a thing Dean. She is a demon."

"Yeah, I get that, but what's going to happen from here? Are you two like a thing now?"

"We are not things Dean, she is a demon, and I am an Angel."

Dean threw his hands up, and Castiel gave him a crooked glance. "No Cas, are you two dating? That's what I mean!"

Castiel gave him a confused look. "Dating, that's never been… our intention…"

"So then why does it have to be only her?"

Castiel had asked himself that very question as well, but he had found that he had no interest in any other woman or demon. "I don't know."

Dean gave him a mixed look, and for the first time, Castiel felt that Dean was giving him approval. "Well, whatever the hell you two are, just be careful, okay Cas? We only have one Angel, and the rest of your garrison kind of hates us."

"Understood."

But the question still stood. Castiel knew that two humans could unify under God with the ties of marriage, and he understood in order for that to happen, the two humans had to have a very understanding and compassionate bond, not only of romance, but also of trust, hope, and desire. Castiel knew a few things for sure. That he desired Meg like none other, that he hoped she'd come back to him, and she'd allow him to go to her. He knew that they both often felt like outcasts and used. But besides his body, could he trust her with all else?

When Dean turned his back on him, Castiel decided to go back to the old abandoned hotel. Touching the ground, he felt his demon stir. Meg had awoken from her daze, and instantly, he found himself at her side. She was naked on the bed, as he had left her, only with a sheet covering her legs. Yet Castiel's face turned into sheer horror as he saw the state of her.

There were distinct purple bruises all over her thighs and wrists. Patches of dark red and curling pinks were on her forearms. Even looking at them made him wince internally. Her hair was in messy waves, her eyes were glinting, and her lips curved at the sight of him. Within seconds, Castiel was gone, back at the Winchesters, in the bathroom, collecting whatever medical care he could find. In another moment, he was back near her.

"You worry over me too much."

"I've hurt you."

"Stop apologizing." She put a hand over his. "I liked it."

Castiel shook his head as brushed finger tips over the tender spots of flushed skin with ointment. It was oddly relaxing, to care for someone completely different than Dean, and though Meg's wounds were not life threatening, he felt responsible. "I will never know why you put up with this."

"Don't give me that, Clarence. I like to put up for you." She winked at him. Castiel did not quite know what that meant, but he assumed it had to do with sex, and he felt his insides twitch.

"Give me your legs."

"I don't-"

"Meg." His voice came out much more gruff than he had intended.

"Well, when you say my name like that, how can I resist?" Castiel pulled the sheet from her body and averted his eyes as he gently took her left leg and massaged more medicine into the rug burns.

"Don't be shy Clarence." She inched herself closer to him, lifting her leg so it rested on his lap. Castiel swallowed, trying to focus on the task at hand. But her skin was so soft, so sensitive. And when he stole a glance at her body, he found that she was wet with arousal.

Her voice hummed with satisfaction as he carefully applied more ointment and moved up her leg. Meg's skin was warm, and colored delicate pinks when he pressed his fingers into her flesh. Castiel didn't take his eyes off of the demon as his hand moved to her inner thigh. He heard her suck in a deep breath when he covered her mound. With another gentle hand, he leaned her back against the pillows, propping her body up and spreading her body across the bed.

"You should stop me," Castiel breathed against the crook of her leg.

"Now why would I do that?" She sounded slightly breathless. Castiel trailed kisses down her thigh and down to her core, kissing her on her lower lips, before leading more up her naval and her neck. Meg twined her arms around her neck as he connected their mouths. Hot, pulsing, he slowly pushed his tongue inside her mouth, tasting everything she had to offer him.

Meg made a move to touch him, but Castiel moved her hands away from him. "Just you today," he murmured into her neck. He cocked his head slightly, kissing under her jaw as his fingers traced downwards her chest, to the slopes of her hips, and back to her weeping folds. She was unbelievably turned on, the evidence on his skin that she wanted him so badly. With careful movements, Castiel let himself rub her folds, eliciting another breathy moan from her. She closed her eyes as he pushed a finger, than another into her warm pussy.

So tight and so ready for him, but Castiel restrained himself. Self-control was not wired into his system, yet he refused to let up. This was his torture on her; his digits moving ever so slowly inside of her, stretching each push and pull as long as they could go. He knew she too was watching how her insides continued to pull his fingers back into him.

"Clarence, I-" He smothered her protests with his mouth, thrusting his fingers deeper into her. He felt his own body swell at the way she panted his name and moaned her pleasure onto his lips. Castiel's thumb brushed quickly over her clit as the pads of his fingers pressed upwards. She let out a strangle cry. Again and again he flicked the throbbing, little organ until her breathing stopped altogether for a moment before she screamed his name in sheer delight.

With an aching vessel, Castiel removed his hands off her body. Her eyes were heavy with joy and her hands pawed at his trench coat. "Don't you go running now. I need you much closer." She yanked, and Castiel found himself in bed, along side with her. He even cracked a smile at her audacity. Feeling unbelievably playful and silly, he tickled her sides softly. Protests followed, insults that held no truth, and Castiel found that he was enjoying himself. Enjoying his time with her.

But as soon as it had started, Castiel's eyes went wide. Meg stopped grinning. "What is it?"

"Dean, I need to go."

"Okay."

"I'll be back."

"That's okay." She gave him another infamous, wicked smile that sent shivers down his spine. "I'll find you."

* * *

If she intended to find him, she was certainly doing a terrible job of it.

After helping Sam and Dean with their issue, the Angel zapped himself back to the room where he had left Meg to rest. But she was nowhere to be seen. Searching the whole building, he came to the conclusion that she was just gone; vanished into thin air. Ultimately, Castiel felt foolish and returned to Bobby Singer's home, where the three men were all huddled over a map.

But even that bored Castiel, and he did not know why. He was sent for a divine purpose, he had rebelled against the higher power, and it had boiled down to being with strange, emotionally broken men while they tried to save all of human existence. Yes, at the moment it was a dire problem, but the four of them had peered over many maps, many clues and leads, and nothing came tumbling along to aid their quest. With the brothers and Bobby now focusing on local supernatural cases, this left Castiel with time on his hands; time that forced him to think.

What did he really want from all of this? Working with Crowley behind the Winchesters' back proved to be painful in many ways. He had never meant to lead many people on, but he knew that Dean would take his decisions to heart, and deem them as betrayal. Castiel rubbed his eyes unconsciously; a motion he saw many humans do when they were under pressure. His intentions to raise the souls from Purgatory to stop the Apocalypse should have been a good idea, but the method... maybe the method was what was wrong.

Refusing to think any longer of this, Castiel stood from a chair. The anxiety of working with Crowley and the guilt that piled on were too much. He paced up and down the stairs a few times, moving restlessly, burning off whatever energy he could. Until, there was a ring on Bobby's door. Castiel was completely unaware that Bobby even had a ringer; he usually just transported himself in. Was he allowed to open the door? Wasn't that usually the house owner's responsibility? Castiel opened the door, and if there were two words that could evaporate his anxious and guilty feelings, it was this.

Pizza man.

"I'm not exactly a pizza man, but it'll do, won't it Clarence?"

There was Meg, and the first thing Castiel had noticed when he finally put his eyes back into their sockets, was her tone, lean legs clad in a heeled boots. Skin, what seemed like miles of skin, was led up to a scanty skirt that barely covered her pelvis. On the front, there was purple and red apron that said "HOT DISH" in bold black lettering. Even better, she was practically topless, except for the tied shirt that made her breasts look plump and showed off her flat stomach. She wore dark red lipstick and her hair fell into sexy curls that framed her face, despite the ridiculous hat she wore. And in one hand, she held a steaming box of pizza. The other hand was on her hip while she wore the most naughty of all smiles that Castiel had ever seen on her.

She let herself in, pushing past Castiel. "I decided to thank you by buying you some pizza. No, please, no need to thank me Clarence. It was my pleasure." She bent over and placed the box on a table in the living room. Her skirt, if one may even call it that, rode up, and Castiel felt faint.

She turned to him. "Did you want a slice now or later?"

That did it.

Castiel crossed over to the room, and just like the film he had initially seen, bent her over the table, pushing the box away. Now with her bottom exposed to him, he delivered the first smack onto her smooth flesh. Meg yelped as he spanked her again. Castiel had to admit; he did not hate Meg, but the sounds she made were heavenly and adorable. He smacked her ass again, except this time she moaned his name loudly. He kneaded his hands into her bottom, loving the way it began to turn to brilliant shades of red. Castiel ran his hands up her back and then to her chest, pulling apart the knot that held her top together. With her breasts now free, he molded them into his hands, toying with her nipples as he breathed down her neck, his erection now rubbing itself gleefully against her rear.

"I can assure you," he growled as he spun her around and took her by the shoulders. "I have quite the appetite."

And he knew that Dean had forbidden him to bring Meg into their home, but he had said nothing about Meg delivering pizza. But as he shoved the demon down on the table, scattering papers and crushing the pizza box, he realized he simply did not care, and would take Meg as she was on this very table if she'd let him. And she did. She unzipped the side of her skirt, but Castiel found it much easier to tear the cloth from her skin.

"Castiel! What did I say about rip-" The Angel cut her off with a quick thrust inside of her. Gripping her thighs tightly, he wedged himself between them, pushing himself in and out of her body. Her breasts bounced at the force of his movements and her fingers had curled around the edges of the table, holding on for dear life.

An animalistic need tore through Castiel's entire being as she raised an arm to pull his body down to cover hers. Now fully on top of her, Castiel kissed the skin on Meg's neck, the warm curve of her lips and the flesh of her cheeks. He kissed her as he fucked her mercilessly, aiming to bring her to orgasm before anything else. That is, until he heard a distinct set of tires roll by.

"Oh no." Meg turned her head when Castiel stopped. "No, this cannot-"

Castiel closed his eyes and gripped Meg tightly. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself on the floor with the demon still under him, in his quarters at the house.

"Cas!" Dean's voice called for him, but he dare not come down. He knew he should have removed himself from inside of Meg, but the way her insides gripped him tightly, he knew he wasn't going anywhere until he finished with her. Covering her mouth with his, he braced himself on the floor and began fucking her all over again.

"Mmph!" All of Meg's moans and protests were drowned in his kisses. It was obvious that she was trying to leave but Castiel refused to let go of her.

Castiel pulled away from her mouth, only to groan into her ear. "Shh." She obeyed, pulling off his trench coat. Her body was hot against his as he turned her to her side and lifted her leg. Delivering another light smack to her inner thigh, he pushed back into her. Biting back a deep groan, he continued to thrust.

"Cas, you there buddy?"

"Yes, Dean. I um, I seem to have gotten myself caught in, um, a bit of an issue. But I will be down shortly." At that moment Meg threw her head back onto Castiel's shoulder, ready to half scream his name it seemed. But Castiel quickly placed his arm over her mouth, muffling her noises and moans.

"What's going on in there?" Dean sounded genuinely concerned that Castiel was in trouble, but Castiel knew the trouble would begin if Dean Winchester found out his Angel was having sex on a bedroom floor of his friend's house with a demon.

"I am having trouble dressing myself Dean. Please leave, I need the utmost concentration that I can gather." All of a sudden, Meg's pussy had clenched tightly and she orgasmed against his cock. Castiel felt teeth dig into his arm and her fingernails pierce his skin as she fought to wail out his name out of sheer rapture.

Dean, who seemed to still be at the door, called out to Castiel again. "I can help you-"

"NO." Castiel removed his erection from Meg's body. "No it's really alright, I can teach my- AH!" Meg had crawled over him and licked the very tip of his raging member. With her soft mouth as her weapon, Castiel felt her push his cock as far back as she could into her throat.

Dean knocked at the door again. "You sound like you're dying, not dressing!"

"DEAN, I NEED TO LEARN THESE THINGS ON MY OWN." Meg continued to suckle at his member. He found that she deliberately sucked harder when he was speaking. He lurched his head up, glaring at her, only to have the glare turn into a star struck gaze of pleasure as she kept sucking on him.

"Alright, alright, no need to get so pushy." Meg stopped sucking and Castiel stopped unconsciously thrusting himself into her mouth to hear Dean's footsteps disappear down the hall.

Meg looked at the Angel, about to speak, when Castiel grabbed her by the arm and lifted her seamlessly up against his body. Now standing, he pushed her against the wall of the bedroom, lifted her leg again, and went back to pleasuring himself with her body. He covered her mouth with his hand, tilting her head back as he pulled himself in and out of her delicious body.

But there was a sudden crash and Castiel found that Meg's flailing arms had knocked a lamp down from the nightstand, leaving the nightstand askew from it's former position. The roughness that they inflicted on each only spurred Castiel's desperate thrusting on, and soon, he was filling her with his warm essence as they slid down from the wall, sweating, panting, and clinging to each other. Breathing heavily on to her skin, he looked at the room. The lamp had shattered, leaving glass upon the other side of the room. The nightstand was awkwardly in the middle of the space between the wall and bed. The bed looked like small children had jumped on it, and he could see scratched on the floor from Meg's boots.

Castiel heard rushed footsteps to the room again and a banging on the door. "Cas, what the hell!?"

The Angel looked at the demon with a keen and sparkling stare, and in the blink of an eye, she was gone, leaving the ghost of her smirk behind. Castiel adjusted his slacks and pulled the trench coat back on. In front of the dresser, he tried to smooth his hair back down, but the way Meg's fingers had pulled on it made it impossible to tame. She liked to call it sex hair. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door to Dean's bewildered face.

"Hello Dean," Castiel said, clearing his throat slightly.

"Hi Cas." But the look on Dean's face said a totally different remark.

"It took a while, I can't..." He pulled at the tie around his neck, which was on backwards. "This is a very tricky article of clothing Dean."

Dean looked at him weirdly and started to adjust the tie. "Every time Cas, really. Do I need to show you it again?"

Castiel sighed. "I still don't understand why the larger part needs to be a certain-"

"DEAN!" Sam's voice echoed through the house. "Did you order pizza?"

"No, why would I- CAS!"

But the Angel was long gone.

* * *

As always, thoughts and reviews are very much appreciated. And thank you for everyone who continues to bear with me; I still am trying to build a sort of plot to this story. Nevertheless, I hope you all had fun with Meg's idea of ordering pizza.


	5. Ice Cream (Fluff)

Words cannot describe how wonderful it feels to write Megstiel after such a long time. It's good to be back.

But this chapter, or hour, is just pure, short fluff. I promise the next one will definitely be much more sex fueled. Until then, enjoy.

* * *

_"In the car, I just can't wait,_  
_To pick you up on our very first date."_

_~Blink-182 - First Date_

* * *

"This is the dumbest idea you've come up with, Clarence."

"Human couples do it all the time."

"No. No, they do not. Human couples promise their lives to each other, then leave days later. They do not surround themselves with screaming, little vipers and call it fun."

A little girl ran past the angel and demon, squealing at the young man chasing her, with what seemed to be a very distraught worm in between his pinching fingers. Parents sat on benches, idly making small talk with each other, while keeping a watchful eye on their young in the late afternoon heat. There was a repetitive tune in the air from a vehicle parked on the edge of the street. There were more children settling around the white truck, with the distribution of ice cream and other treats of the sort. And in the middle of that, Castiel stood, obviously out of place in his long trench coat in the warm air. Next to him was Meg, the only one wearing black in the summer's early night, glaring at each moving human. She was not pleased.

"I thought it would-"

"You've been watching TV again, haven't you?"

Castiel looked down. "There's not much else to do when Dean and Sam are away." Even with a cross look on her face, she looked extremely lovely in the dimming sunlight. Her hair was always black when he saw her, but before in the morning, he saw there were faint remnants of a deep reddish color, scattered in streaks across her head. Her vessel's eyes were brown, but the sun would bring out golden specks in the orbs. In night, she was a completely different person. Her hair was dark, her eyes just endless nighttime skies. In all her anger, she was still a fascinating thing, and Castiel could all but pounce on the opportunity to spend time with her.

Although, bringing up the idea was not easy.

Maybe he had gotten the idea from the television, but as always, Castiel's intentions had been for the better, not worse. He found the idea of romancing Meg very tempting. To take her places, to make her laugh and moan, to have them spend time together in the outside world: these fantasies infiltrated his mind every time he was left alone with the television remote in his hand. After what he assumed to be the 70th rerun of One Tree Hill that he had watched, Castiel had decided that if they could engage in sexual behavior, that they could attempt to have a normal relationship as well.

She didn't think he was serious at first. "You want us to date. Demons don't date, Clarence. They fuck and they leave."

"And yet," Castiel said as he touched her cheek with the back of his hand. "You've never left my bedside."

"That's because it's my bed," Meg retorted, but something in her voice had sparked interest and Castiel only pushed more and more until she threw her angel blade down and gave in. "Fine! Take me on your goddamn date! But when it's 7PM, you're absolutely, entirely mine, and you'll have to do what I say."

Castiel smiled at her.

"What are we going to do anyways?"

And so, they had ended here; on the grass, at the park, watching the world spin on without taking interest in a soldier of God and the spawn of Hell standing side by side. Meg seemed uncharacteristically frigid next to him, as if her slightest movement in the sunlight would ignite her in flames. Castiel smothered the urge to laugh at her discomfort, knowing that even the faintest laughter towards her would end in disaster. Instead, he gestured towards a park bench, conveniently shaded by towering trees. They sat. He couldn't help but notice her eyes wandering back and forth to the ice cream truck parked yards away. At first, Castiel thought it'd be a rather stupid idea to offer her ice cream, considering demons do not need to survive on food, but when he saw her pink tongue trace her lips, he was sold.

He got up so quickly that she was startled. "Where are you goin', Clarence?"

"I'll be a moment. Stay here." He squinted in the direction of the truck. It wasn't so far away, and with the amount of people here, maybe zapping himself in the middle of screaming children wasn't a brilliant idea. With a quick stride, he began to walk towards the vehicle, cautiously, in attempts to not step on or bump into the kids.

But as he began to move, so did the truck, with its repeating and vastly annoying jingle, pulling away from the curb and onto the street.

"HEY WAIT!" About a dozen heads turned to Castiel's direction, but he didn't care much for the attention he had suddenly brought to himself. Now picking up pace, Castiel began to _run _towards the evading truck, desperate to get the ignorant driver's attention.

"STOP!" Too late; the truck had gone into traffic, but the Angel wouldn't have that. Pushing people aside, he took off after the truck, running as fast as he could. Stepping off of the grass and into the busy street, horns blared as Castiel dodged car after car, chasing after an ice cream truck.

A slew of curses and hand gestures were left behind him as he climbed on the hood of a Honda and jumped to top of a range rover. Another car skidded, lucky to have not grazed the moving celestial being as he ran. Of course, the accident would have caused more damage to the car, but the driver didn't quite know that.

As the truck driver slowed to a red light, Castiel huffed breathlessly, propped up against the metal side. He looked to the driver's side window. In the reflection of the mirror, he saw the driver's eyes go wide before disappearing altogether, and reappearing inside the truck, right behind the trembling human, who was in complete shock of what he had just seen.

The man was terrified.

"Please," he said meekly, holding his hands up. "Please don't hurt me, oh God."

Castiel squinted his eyes again at the man. "No, you've misunderstood." He reached into his coat pocket and took out a five-dollar bill. "I just wanted some ice cream."

"How did you- you were just-!" The man threw his hands up and promptly picked himself up from the drivers seat. "I fucking quit," he said calmly. "I'm sick of all the kids and you parents are bat shit crazy." He killed the engine of the truck and took the keys out. He laughed in such a crazed manner that even Castiel, Angel of the Lord took a step back, giving the man, who clearly seemed unstable due to the years of laborious ice cream vending, some space. "I am so done."

Without another word, the man gently placed the keys on the dashboard and stepped out of the vehicle, walking away, muttering to himself about a woman named Selma and her cat, Mr. Wrinkles.

And so stood our Angel, thoroughly confused, in the middle of melting ice cream. Unfortunately, Dean nor Sam had taken the time to teach the wayward Angel the ways of vehicle usage. With no other choice left, Castiel put his hand on the interior wall of the truck, closed his eyes, and transported himself back to the park.

In seconds, children were teeming at the small window again, fistfuls of coins and money in their little hands, eager to get the sweet relief of ice cream on the warm, late afternoon. Unsure of the current bartering system, Castiel simply dunked cones into the melting concoctions of ice cream and gave them away, free of charge. When the last child was satisfied with his three scoops of rocky road, Castiel took a cone for his favorite demon, slathered on the remaining vanilla ice cream, and walked to the bench, where she sat, idly looking in the other direction.

When he graced her with his presence, he became hyperaware that he was sweating, that there was dirty stuck on his trench coat, and that his hands were sticky sweet with melted ice cream. Meg Masters took one look at her messy Angel and laughed out loud.

"I…" He gave her a sour look when her laughter didn't stop. He cleared his throat again in attempts to recapture her attention. "I have bought you ice cream."

"I can see that," Meg said, wiping away a tear from her eye. She stood, and while pulling her hair back, she took one slow, long lick from the ice cone Castiel held. He felt the muscles in his throat contract at how seductive she made a children's treat look. "But do you know what time it is, Clarence?"

Castiel looked around. "I… I don't seem to have a clock with me."

She put a hand inside his trench coat and felt for his phone. "Well," she said, acting as if he wasn't turned on by her touch. "The clock says 7:03PM." She grinned at him, a look that told him that not only did he completely belong to her for the rest of the night, but that she would never let him live this down. "Don't worry Clarence, I had loads of fun on our _date. _I liked watching you run around like a maniac." A droplet of ice cream ran down his wrist. The demon took the liberty to lift the Angel's hand to her mouth and suck the sweet drops from his skin. She bit down lightly, making Castiel groan at her torment.

She raised her eyebrows in a provocative fashion and began to walk away, heading towards home. Castiel looked around, trying to find a garbage can.

"No, no Clarence." She turned back on him. When his eyes met hers, she licked her lips again. "Bring the ice cream. We're going to have some _fun_ now."

Needless to say, that is exactly what they did.

* * *

Reviews, comments, angry fists shaking in my general direction, are welcomed, as always.


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